


Sweater Weather

by funhousefreak



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted Max, Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, boyfriends talking their issues out, dadvid, making these boys suffer is my job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 03:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16380404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funhousefreak/pseuds/funhousefreak
Summary: Max has a self-harm relapse during a sleepover and tries to hide it from his boyfriend.





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [four-legged-song](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=four-legged-song).



> Hi everyone! This is a short one-shot I did for my girlfriend, four-legged-song on tumblr. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Content Warnings for self-harm, mentions of blood

            The door had always had a creak in it. Even since before they moved in 8 years ago, that door had been loud. Max hardly noticed it, but apparently it had annoyed the hell out of the previous owners, enough to where they had told the realtors to warn potential buyers. Normally, Max had nothing to hide, and thus didn’t care if anyone heard his door open and close. But tonight, the one night it mattered, it made the loudest creak he’d ever heard. He cringed as the noise rang throughout the entire room. He silently spat out a string of curses. Nevertheless, he accepted his fate and slid into the dark room, not bothering to close the door quietly. The damage was already done.

            Max watched silently as the body in his bed tried to twist around to look at him. The sheets clearly were posing a challenge, entangling and entrapping the figure. Max instinctively grabbed his right arm and held it, nerves twisting his stomach into knots. He quietly winced as his left hand pressed the soft fabric of his hoodie against his raw skin. The body finally untangled itself enough to turn over on its side and look at him.

            “Max?” it asked, voice heavy with sleep. Its hands rubbed sleep away from squinted eyes.

            “Yeah, yeah, go back to sleep, nerd,” Max grumbled as he made his way over to the bed. He sat himself on the empty left side of the bed and checked the time on his alarm clock. 3:30am.

            “Take your sweatshirt off,” Neil whined. “It’s hot enough as it is.”

            “Fuck off,” Max spat as he slid down and threw the covers over his legs. “I’ll do what I want.”

            Of course, Neil was right. Max was sweating in his current attire. June was not the time to be wearing long-sleeves, especially in David’s house. The man liked to save electricity, which was great. But that meant limited air conditioning, saved only for the hottest of summer days. It left Max sleeping in only boxers most nights. Neil always did the same when he spent the night, and tonight was no exception.

            “Jeez, what made you so grouchy?”

            “Being up at 3:30.”

            “Not my fault,” Neil grumbled. He threw his naked torso across Max, resting his head on the shorter boy’s chest. Normally, the movement would have endeared him, but this time it made his hair stand on end. Neil was too close for comfort at the moment given the…circumstances.

            Max winced as Neil’s hand brushed against his left forearm. Even through the thick sweatshirt, the light touch was enough to cause a burning, stingy sensation. He bit his lip, trying to quiet himself so the boy on his chest wouldn’t notice.

            “You okay?”

            _Damn it._

            “Yeah, fine, just go to sleep.”

            “Alright, alright.”

            The duo laid in silence for several minutes. Max stared vacantly up at his ceiling. He knew trying to sleep would be futile, so he settled for spacing out until the sun rose. Neil had his eyes closed, but Max could tell by his breathing that he was still awake. He was probably expecting some sort of reciprocation of affection, but there was nothing Max could do right now. His usual methods would cause him pain or arouse suspicion, and he needed neither one of those things.

            “Do you not want me touching you right now?” Neil suddenly asked, breaking Max out of his thoughts. Max glanced down at the messy mop of curls laying on his chest. He knew he had to pick his words very carefully or risk upsetting his boyfriend. But, then again, Neil knew how he was. Sometimes, Max just can’t be touched, and that’s okay. He’d never been a physically affectionate person—after all, physical touch in his biological parents’ house had been associated with pain. Even after years of living with David and dating Neil, he still wasn’t totally comfortable with people touching him. Everyone in his life knew this. Neil had never had an issue with it before.

            “No, I think I need some space,” Max sighed, eyes glancing back up at the ceiling.

            Neil silently removed himself and settled back onto his side of the bed, facing the wall. Despite never having trouble with Max’s touch sensitivity before, he still couldn’t help but worry that he’d upset Neil every time it happened. He tried to reason with himself, that Neil probably was just exhausted and wanted to get back to sleep. Or that that was the most comfortable position for his body right now. But Max still couldn’t shake the feeling he’d fucked up. Perhaps it was the guilt of what he’d actually done wrong seeping into all of his other choices.

            “Babe, why are you wearing your jacket?”

            Max’s body tensed.

            “It’s hot as hell in here,” Neil continued without waiting for a response.

            “Sometimes I just like to cover my body,” Max retorted, snappier than he needed—or meant—to be. “You know that.”

            “Yeah, but not usually in bed,” Neil pointed out. “I thought you trusted me enough to—“

            “It’s not about trust, dipshit,” Max interrupted. “It’s about _my_ comfort. And right now I don’t feel comfortable with my skin exposed.”

            “Did you hurt yourself?”

            “What? What the fuck are you going on about?”

            “You’re acting weird, you won’t take your jacket off, you’re getting defensive, you keep wincing when anything touches your arms….” Max’s face fell into a guilt-ridden frown as he stared at his bedroom door. He could just get up and leave. He doesn’t have to take this. He doesn’t owe Neil an explanation.

            Except he did. Except, when you’re best friends with someone for 6 years and boyfriends for 2, you do owe them something.

            “Need I say more?” Neil concluded.

            Max rolled onto his side to face his door. He ignored the flash of pain that struck his left arm.

            The duo laid like that for several moments, each waiting for the other to make a move. Finally, Neil sighed and sat up, feet planted on the floor.

            “Why do I always have to be the bigger person?” he grumbled as he made his way out of the room.

            Max assumed he was just leaving, that he was angry enough to just drive home for the night. But less than a minute later, Neil returned with the first aid kit from the bathroom in tow. Max had always made fun of David for storing those things all over the house.

            “It might come in handy one day,” David had always said as justification. Max always just rolled his eyes.

            _Guess he wasn’t wrong._

Neil said nothing as he walked to Max’s side of the bed.

            “Sit up,” he commanded dryly. Any other day, he would protest being talked to that way. But he knew he’d fucked up, so he kept his mouth shut and did what his boyfriend said.

            “Take you jacket off,” he ordered. Max looked up at him. His eyes were empty and cold, like he was running on autopilot. Still, Max shook his head.

            “Then slide your sleeves up.” Max did as he was told wincing and muttering curses to himself the whole time.

            Neil examined the cuts as if he were a doctor, a complete stranger who was just doing his job. He tore open a gauze pad wrapping and poured some alcohol on it. He ran the damp gauze over every red line, making no attempt to be gentle. Max bit his lip until it bled, trying not to yell and awaken David. Neil then used the gauze to wipe off any excess blood that had dried on his boyfriend’s arm. Max had been careful enough to make sure all the cuts stopped bleeding before he put his jacket on, but he hadn’t bothered to clean any dried blood off. Neil did the same procedure with the other arm, and the process repeated itself perfectly.

            Neil used a clean washrag from the bathroom to dry both arms off. Max once again said nothing, despite the pain. Neil then opened a large tube of Neosporin and squirted it all across Max’s cuts. He winced and squirmed occasionally, but for the most part, the cooling gel felt soothing against his raw skin. He wondered why he didn’t use this stuff more often to treat his wounds. He was jerked from his thoughts by the tearing of more paper wrappings. He looked up and saw Neil pulling out a large adhesive bandage. It was about the size of a gauze pad; the only difference was that the edges were sticky to prevent it from falling off. Neil eyed Max’s arm, deciding where the best place was to place this bandage. Max was about to put his hand on Neil’s, to guide it to where he wanted it placed, but before he could reach out, Neil was already sticking it down on his forearm. Max focused his gaze on the floor as Neil added several more bandages.

            Once all the cuts on both inner arms had been covered, Neil gathered all the garbage he had created and crumpled it into a ball. He then packed up the First Aid kit and took everything back to the bathroom down the hall. Max looked down at his newly-bandaged arms that sat in his lap. There were three giant Band-Aids on both forearms. Not a single spot of bare skin was visible below the elbow. Max hadn’t actually taken care of his cuts in a long time. It somehow felt healing to clean and cover them—not just physically, but also mentally, as the reminders of pain and depression that had pushed him to this point were invisible. Nevertheless, he pulled his blue sweatshirt sleeves down to his wrists.

            Neil returned to the room, closing the door behind him. His bright blue eyes met Max’s vibrant green ones in the darkness. Max searched his boyfriend’s face for any sign of emotion, but found none. That was worse than seeing anger or sadness or concern. It meant Neil had shut down. And that was harder to work through than any emotion.

            “Thanks,” Max whispered, not letting their stares break. He hoped that would stir something in the other.

            But all he got was a quick, “no problem,” as Neil walked around to the other side of the bed. The lanky boy sat down and swung his legs back into bed, pulling the sheets up over them.

            “What? That’s it?” Max asked as he settled himself into bed.

            “What? Is there something you want from me?” Neil’s tone sounded annoyed, unamused. He turned himself onto his side, once again facing away from Max.

            “Well, I don’t know? You normally wanna talk shit out.”

            “What’s there to talk about?” Neil grumbled.

            “Aren’t you upset that I lied?”

            “Meh, not really. Everyone lies.”

            Max turned onto his right side and stared intently at Neil’s back, trying to will him to turn around. “Why are you acting like you don’t care?”

            “Do you want me to care?” Neil asked, a bite in his tone. “Do you want me to get upset and cry, or storm out of here all pissy?”

            “No— “

            “Then what do you want from me?”

            “I want you to feel _something_! This stone-faced, emotionless shit is driving me fucking insane!”

            Neil turned over at his angry boyfriend’s retort. He looked Max dead in the eye, face still expressionless and empty.

            “Why do you care if I feel anything about this?” His voice was calm and level, emotionless. “This isn’t something new. This isn’t surprising. This isn’t something I can stop. So, why freak out? Why care if I can’t do anything?”

            “Because I’m your _goddamn boyfriend_!”

Max realized afterwards that his voice had definitely been at shouting level, despite Neil being inches from his face. It was a miracle David hadn’t stirred and come check on them.

            Neil held his gaze for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Then, he took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

            “You really wanna know how I feel?”

            “Jesus fucking Christ, yes! Do I have to spell it out?”

            Neil ignored the biting comment and continued. “I am upset, Max. I’m upset that you’re feeling such awful emotions. I’m upset that they drive you to harm yourself. And I’m upset that you lied to me about it. But most of all, I’m upset that you didn’t come to me and tell me what was going on.”

            Max opened his mouth to respond, but Neil shut him down by jumping into another sentence.

            “I know that that’s a selfish way to think. You’re the one suffering here; I should be caring for you. But goddamn it, Max, you make that so hard to do.”

            Max’s stare finally faltered. The anger that had so quickly engulfed him began easing away as Neil continued talking. His eyes came to rest on his hooded arms—arms that, less than half-an-hour ago, had been bleeding on the bathroom floor.

            “I love you, Max. I care about you so fucking much.” Neil gently grasped Max’s hands in his own bigger ones. He tried to catch his gaze, but Max just turned his head further away. “And that’s why I need you to let me in. I know it’s hard, but I want to help. But I can’t do that without your help.”

            Neil let the room fade into silence once he had said his piece. He knew Max would respond, but it would take time for him to craft his response. Neil made a point to not stare at him, to not put him on the spot or under pressure. He knew from past experience that that just resulted in another fight.

            “I feel like I’d just be bothering you if I came to you,” Max finally whispered. His right hand unconsciously left Neil’s and held his left arm.

            “Why?” Neil pressed. He knew why, but Max needed to say it aloud. He needed to admit it to himself.

            “Because I’d be wasting your time,” Max mumbled, his nails digging into the navy blue fabric of his sweatshirt.

            “Why?”

            “Because _I’m_ not worth your time. I’m not…worth anyone’s time.”

            Neil grinned sadly as his boyfriend forced the words out. It was like they were poison, on Max’s tongue, each one hurting him more than the last one. Neil gave the hand he was still holding a squeeze.

            “You know you’re wrong, don’t you?” he asked softly. He used his left hand to brush several strands of untamable black curls behind Max’s ear.

            “Yeah.”

            “Then why say it?”

            “Because the illness makes me think that way,” Max groaned. He understood what was happening now. Neil went through this routine with him every time he had intrusive or negative thoughts about himself. It was a technique Max’s therapist had recommended: separate your brain and your thoughts from yourself, and it can be easier to deconstruct the lies. Sometimes Max wished he hadn’t told Neil about this recommendation. It got used far too often now, and frankly, he was bored of it.

            “Right,” Neil nodded.

            “Stop patronizing me, Neil,” Max said, tone sharp but voice quiet.

            “I’m not trying to. I’m sorry.” His tone made it seem like a genuine apology, so Max turned his head to look at him. His face looked sorry, too: his eyes were concerned, like he knew he had fucked up, and his frown was deep. It was Max’s turn now to give a reassuring hand squeeze.

            “I know. And I know you’re trying to help. It’s just…opening up is hard. Especially when you’re used to keeping something a secret.”

            “You know, David wouldn’t be upset with you if you told him. He’d just be concerned.”

            “Exactly.” Max met his boyfriend’s gaze for the first time in a while. “I don’t want to put that on him.”

            “He’s your dad….” Max gave him a glare, challenging him to leave the sentence as it was. “…figure,” Neil continued, flashing a quick, awkward smile in response to the glare. Max’s face eased, but not entirely—a sign that told Neil, “you’re on thin fucking ice.” “Of course he’d worry. But he also cares. A lot. He’d find a way to help.”

            “He’s got enough on his plate as is,” Max protested. “He doesn’t need me adding stress.”

            “Then who’s going to help you? Because it’s not yourself.” Max opened his mouth to retort but quickly closed it again. He wished Neil was wrong, but he wasn’t. Part of him wanted to challenge him, to look out for himself and thus prove Neil wrong. But the self-loathing part of his brain told him to just accept that it’d never let him escape its grasp.

            “See, this is why I need you to talk to me,” Neil implored. “You need to have someone in your corner, someone to support you, but I can’t do that without you talking to me.”

            Max sighed in defeat and relief. Finally, he was getting the support he needed, but that meant accepting he couldn’t fight this battle alone. And that was going to be a point of torture for him by his brain.

            “Okay, I get it. I’ll…try.”

            If this had happened two years ago, Neil would have gotten angry. _You can’t just say “I’ll try!” This is a serious issue! Why don’t you care more?_ But now, he knew that was all Max could offer right now, and that was okay. He would try: he’d do it fine sometimes, and fail miserably at it at others. Max had been taught to hide all his problems and never speak up for most of his life. It takes time to undo that upbringing, and Neil knew that now.

            “Okay, thank you,” he said, a big smile covering his face. He then released Max’s hand and collapsed onto the bed. “Now, can we please go back to sleep?”

            Max chuckled. He turned onto his right side so he was facing Neil. He leaned over his boyfriend for a moment before diving in for a sweet kiss. Neil smiled as he returned the gesture, pressing his somewhat-chapped lips against Max’s smooth ones. He rested his right hand on Max’s face, cupping his cheek. His other arm began snaking around Max’s back, heading for the back of his neck. Max knew what he was trying to do and pulled back before he could complete the move. Neil pouted slightly, wanting more kisses, but Max just smiled sweetly back at him. He leaned in one more time for a quick peck on the cheek before laying back down. He rested his head on Neil’s bare chest and threw an arm across his torso lazily.

            “I love you,” Neil said as he laid his arm on Max’s back. His eyes closed, and immediately he felt himself drifting off again.

            “I love you, too,” Max whispered. He wasn’t sure Neil heard him, but that was okay. He knew.  

           


End file.
